


side effects (or, 696969 nice)

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, FE3H Kinkmeme, Truth Serum, and if you squint you might guess who might have planned all this, anyway it seems like nsfw fics will be my only contribution to felannie, keyword yet, so take it and go, there is no 69 yet, unfortunately unlike what the title suggests, you love to see annette making moves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26501470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: the truth always comes out. literally. (a kinkmeme fill)
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85
Collections: FE3H Kinkmeme Light





	side effects (or, 696969 nice)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asnailbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asnailbee/gifts).



> written as a fill for a long-ago [kinkmeme request](https://fe3h-kinkmeme-light.dreamwidth.org/452.html?thread=82116)
> 
> of note, yes, the secondary title of this fic is "[696969 nice](https://twitter.com/napsbeforesleep/status/1306350411364921344?s=20)" -- thank you my dear friend aj for your brilliant suggestion.

Honestly, fuck Claude.

If it wasn’t for him, Felix wouldn’t be in this whole damn mess in the first place.

“Oh, you know, I was just experimenting with this new formulation for my truth serum, and I thought you’d be a good subject. We’d be able to tell right away if it’s working — since, you know, you deny everything you feel,” Claude had explained, granting him a small wink at the end.

 _Experimenting,_ his ass.

Manuela pulls the diaphragm of the stethoscope from his chest, pulling it out of her ears. “So far, so good,” she tells him, giving him another once-over. “I’m not seeing any side effects so far. Your heart and lungs are sounding good, and you look pretty comfortable.” She thinks for a minute, holding her chin. “Claude didn’t mention any other ingredients in this concoction of his? Just some goldridge berries and valley plums?”

“Yeah,” Felix replies. “He told me all the other ingredients were fine.”

“I see,” Manuela says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Well, so far, it’s been a few hours out and nothing has really happened to you. Even if I expected anything from the berries and plums, and even if they were used at higher concentrations in the serum, we’re certainly past the time frame any side effects would occur.”

He looks up at her. “You don’t know how to reverse any of this?”

“Oh, time is already at work on that,” she replies, crossing her arms. “How long did Claude mention this would last?”

Felix scowls. “He didn’t tell me,” he grumbles.

Manuela takes a deep breath in. He can tell she’s holding back an amused smile. “You’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.”

He sighs. “How much longer do you want me here?”

She looks over at the clock on the other side of the infirmary. “Honestly, if you hadn’t presented yourself here, I wouldn’t have done a thing since it doesn’t seem like anything has happened to you. But since you came in with some concerns, I have to conduct due diligence to monitor for any symptoms,” she explains. “I have to at least keep a close eye on you.” She pauses, watching his reaction. “I’d say about a couple more hours? How do you feel about that? I’ll come in to check in on you one more time and then I’ll let you out of here.”

“Sure,” he says, disgruntled.

“At least it wasn’t one of the Claude’s more… _potent_ recipes, right?”

“Yeah… I guess,” he agrees, leaning back into the headboard of the hospital bed.

“Another few hours,” she promises. “I’ll get you out of here soon, don’t worry.”

A knock sounds at the door.

Manuela looks behind her. “Looks like you got a visitor?”

The door opens then — revealing Annette. She peers into the room, quickly glancing between Manuela and Felix.

“Sorry!” she apologizes in haste, zipping back out of the room and pulling the door closed.

“That’s alright, Annette, dear,” Manuela exclaims, reaching for the door and opening it again. “We were all finished up here. I won’t keep you from him. He’s all yours now.”

“Professor Manuela! Is he okay? What happened?” Annette asks.

What the hell is Annette doing here anyway? Who told her he was here? News spreads fast, he presumes.

Regardless, he feels his body relax when he sees her. He’s glad Annette’s here.

Now that she’s fully through the door, Felix can see that she’s holding a small wrapped package in her hands. Probably sweets or something. He looks up at her, but that also happens to be the moment she decides to look over at him. Their eyes meet briefly, and Felix steers his eyes to the window, feeling his heart suddenly skip a beat.

“Oh, I’m sure he can tell you everything himself,” Manuela tells her. “He’s doing just fine.”

“Ah, okay,” Annette says, thanking her as Manuela steps out. Annette shuts the door behind her gently, then turns around. “Hey, Felix,” she greets him, brandishing a big smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just heard you were here! Claude told me something bad happened so I wanted to check to see if you’re okay,” she explains, approaching the side of his bed. She stands awkwardly for a few seconds, then suddenly extends her hand to him. “I, uh, brought some sweets!”

He looks down at the square package in her hands.

“I don’t like sweets,” he says. He takes it anyway.

“Oh, right,” she says. “I know, but I didn’t know what else to bring.”

He shrugs. “Just you being here is fine. I’m glad you’re here.”

She blinks.

She’s not the only one confused. Felix also blinks.

Where the hell did that come from?

Oh. Right. The truth serum. Fuck.

She shifts her weight, looking down at her shoes. “So, uh, Felix,” she starts, moving on. “What happened anyway? I know Manuela said you were fine now, but what got you here in the first place?”

“Nothing happened,” he replies. “I’m fine. I just—”

Stop talking, Felix, he tells himself. This is just the serum talking.

Annette tilts her head curiously. “You just what?”

He shuts his mouth but, fucking Seiros, the words weasel their way out of him anyway. He can’t resist responding to the question. “I just ingested something,” he says, at first vaguely, but then another sentence makes it past his lips. “A truth serum. Supposed to extract information out of people. So nothing is wrong. I’m just a lot more… talkative… and honest.”

“Oh, I see,” she says. “Honest, huh?” She suddenly looks a little flustered, and Felix cannot fathom a reason why. “Well then. That’s not all that bad, I guess.”

“No, I think it’s terrible.” He sets the sweet aside, placing it on the nightstand next to him.

Annette stares at him for a good second, then sputters out a laugh. “You’re certainly a lot more expressive now, but I don’t think this truth serum has changed your brashness one bit!” She looks at the sweet he’s placed down, then takes it. “Well, if you won’t be eating this, then I may as well enjoy it myself. You really don’t like sweets at all, huh?”

“No,” he says. “I don’t.”

She looks at him with narrowed eyes. “Have you even given any sweets a try?”

He purses his lips. _Of course, I have._

“No,” he answers. Truthfully.

What just—

Oh, right. Truth serum.

Damn.

She arches an eyebrow. She looks at him for another second, and suddenly, her eyes glimmer with excitement. She quickly fetches a chair from the side of the room, sitting down. She unwraps it quickly, revealing the flaky pastry within and showing the delicacy to him. “Can you at least give this one a try? Mercedes got this for me while she was in the capital. One of the best desserts I’ve ever eaten in my life! I _promise_ it’s worth it.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

He holds his breath, refusing to speak.

“How can you know that you don’t like something when you haven’t even given it a try?” she mutters, looking down at the pastry. “Are you just scared that you’re actually going to like it or something?”

_No._

“Yes,” he blurts. “I don’t want to like sweets.”

Fucking truth serum.

She processes his answer for a second, confused. Then she snorts, laughing. “Oh, wow — I almost forgot about the truth serum!” She has a good laugh about the whole situation, while Felix gloats in the meantime, folding his arms over his chest.

He is not pleased about this. He does _not_ like this at all.

“That’s fine,” she says, re-wrapping the pastry and putting it back on the nightstand. “I won’t force you to try it. Sweets are quite addicting, after all!” She pauses for a moment, then turns back to him, cupping her chin with her hand thoughtfully. “Well, I guess while you’re being honest, I might as well ask. Why don’t you want to like sweets?”

 _I don_ _’t know_.

“I don’t need them. They don’t serve any function. I don’t want to waste my time eating them.”

“Waste your time on dessert? Well, that’s quite harsh,” Annette giggles. “That makes sense — but I don’t think people waste their time enjoying sweets! They make for an excellent treat at the end of a long day. Why _not_ indulge?”

 _I don_ _’t know_.

He furrows his eyebrows. “I won’t let myself,” he confesses.

Her lips twist. “Why don’t you let yourself indulge?”

Where… Where are all these questions coming from? Why is she asking all these… _questions_?

Does she not realize how _personal_ she’s getting? She’s peeling him down to the core, picking him apart like… like they’re _close_. This feels… _intimate_. This feels like—

“Aren’t there things that you want?”

He can feel the answer bubble up in his throat, but he shoves it away as best he—

“Yes,” he croaks.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Well,” she says then. “What sort of things do you want?”

 _Nothing_.

“You— I—” he stammers, snapping his mouth shut.

He absolutely does _not_ want to get into that. Especially not while he can’t say anything _but_ the truth. At this rate, he’s going to actually tell her that—

“Hm?” she asks.

“I don’t want to tell you,” he gruffly states.

“You don’t want to tell me?”

“No,” he says. “I don’t.”

She frowns. “Why is it always so awkward with you, Felix?”

_I just really like you._

His mouth opens. “I just—”

He snaps it shut. Wait. No. Fuck. What—

“Huh?” she perks up at his half-response.

“I just really like you,” he blurts.

Her mouth drops open.

His does, too.

Fuck.

She stares at him, wide-eyed for a good few moments. “You… what? Why?”

“I really like you,” he repeats again. And then he rambles on — because damn it, she asked two questions, and this goddess-forsaken serum is going to make him answer both. “I think you’re really cute and you’re really smart. And you work really hard.”

“O-Oh!” Annette hiccups. “Wow. I… I’m flattered.” She looks as flustered as he feels, but if he’s frank, he wouldn’t be able to tell who out of the two of them is blushing harder. She looks as red as her hair. He feels as hot as fire.

Well. At the moment, he can’t be anything but honest anyway.

“Also I like hearing you sing,” he blurts.

Her mouth quivers. “Fe-Felix!” she sputters, hands balling up the creases of her dress. “I’ve already told you to stop talking about my singing! I don’t sing!” He can’t tell if she’s more angry or more embarrassed and it’s kind of adorable.

“Yes, you do. You have a really lovely voice. I like hearing you sing.”

“W-Well, I guess it’s nice to know that you like my voice,” she says, her fingers now twisting over each other.

“I do,” he says. Words like waterfalls out of his mouth. “And I want you to kiss me.”

A beat.

Her eyes snap up at him.

“You… you want me to kiss you?” she asks, in a hush.

He presses his lips together.

Fuck.

He simply stares at her, and she looks expectantly back at him.

“You want me to kiss you?” she asks again, in a lower voice.

Oh. _Goddess_. His heart starts to beat rapidly, and he feels his breath catch in his throat. Of _course_ , he wants her to kiss him. But—

“Felix…” she repeats, with the shadow of a smirk. “You have to answer the question.”

“Yes,” he says, without a missed beat.

There’s a pause there. A moment’s silence where he thinks that maybe she’s wondering if this is all real, or if maybe this is all just a dream. He can hear it in her held breath, see it in her wide eyes.

Maybe he regrets saying a single word in the first place. Maybe he also regrets not just eating the damned sweet that she brought with her and having her go on her way after checking in on him. Maybe he also regrets drinking his glass of water after leaving it unattended for more than a minute with Claude.

But also Annette’s lips look so _good_.

Maybe. Just _maybe_ he has a reason to thank Claude.

Slowly though, her eyes move down from his eyes, very obviously focusing in on his lips. Steadily, she lifts herself up from the chair, transferring her body and sitting on the edge of the mattress next to him. She twists her body to face him, then looks down, carefully planting her hands on either side of his hips. She leans her body forward, coming ever closer… _closer_ …

She kisses him then — so light and gentle he barely registers it. He could have just imagined it for all he knew.

“There,” she tells him, in a shaky exhale. “How was that?”

He doesn’t hold back his reply. “Perfect,” he replies, locking eyes with her.

She holds eye contact for just another second, but then shifts her eyes away, suddenly embarrassed. She pulls away, but Felix catches her wrist.

“Wait. Come closer,” he says.

She stares at him blankly again, as if still questioning reality, but then her eyes soften and she licks her lips.

Then she moves towards him. He watches her crawl up onto bed on all fours, then watches her climbs over him, straddling his hips with her knees. She sits on his lap, making herself comfortable. He reaches up to place his hands around her waist, securing her on top of him. She cradles his face, her palms flush against his jaw. She tilts his lips up to him — her face leaning in so close he can feel her breath on his cheeks.

He loves it. He feels a hot fire spark deep inside him.

“Is this close enough?” she asks.

“No,” he says, then closes the space between their lips, kissing her once more. She tastes so sweet, smells so good, feels so warm. Kissing her is like swimming through clouds. Kissing her is melts all the tension out of his muscles. Kissing her makes his heart pound hard in his chest. Kissing her is like coming home after a long hard day.

When they pull away from each other, she takes another second to relish the moment, only opening her eyes afterwards. She’s still so close — her eyelashes like butterfly wings on his cheeks.

“Wow,” she sighs, whispering over his lips. “You’re secretly a romantic, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t answer the question. He doesn’t want to.

“Is it because you like me? You _like_ me, don’t you, Felix?”

He shudders, feeling words bubble in his chest.

“You like me _a lot_.”

Felix clenches his jaw tight, but goddess, it takes everything out of him to not just tell her _yes_.

He coughs instead. It’s not a no, but it certainly isn’t the truth either.

She frowns. “Don’t lie to me, Felix.” But then she giggles — teasing. “Oh, right!” she remarks then. “You _can_ _’t_.”

“You’re right,” he admits. There’s no point in holding back now, right? “I do. I like you a lot.”

She grins. “You like me a lot,” she repeats. Saying it seems to make her very happy, so she says it to herself again, like the chorus of a song.

Maybe it’s in the way she’s sitting on top of him, or maybe it’s in the way she’s so close he can smell her shampoo, or maybe it’s in the way she’s completely overwhelmed his senses, but whatever it is, that warm tingle at the very base of his hips suddenly blooms. He tries to ignore it, keeping his eyes fixed on the freckles over her cheeks — How do they look so symmetrical? And is that a double freckle, or just an irregularly shaped one? — but alas, human nature is as such, and Felix feels his pants grow inevitably stiffer.

He shifts his weight as subtlety as he can.

“Ah,” Annette remarks, suddenly self-conscious. She looks down. “I’m sorry, I must be so heavy, making your legs — _oh_.”

He looks down too. There’s a very obvious and very unmistakable rise between his legs.

Annette laughs nervously, meeting his eyes.

“S-Sorry,” he stammers.

“N-No! _I_ _’m_ sorry,” she replies. “I, um —”

“No. No, don’t apologize,” he says, fighting against his urge to speak.

Easier said than done.

Well. Either way, he’s saying more in this conversation than he would have ever dared say in his lifetime.

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” he adds. “I’m just really turned on right now.”

He sees something flash in her eyes then. At first, he sees shock and surprise, but then her modest smile translates into something a little more salacious.

“Turned on, huh?” she asks. Her hands start to wander down from his face, falling off from his neck and spreading over his chest. She slowly tilts her hips up, then down, kindling an irresistible friction on his lap. “You’re turned on by _me_?”

“Yes,” he breathes. It’s so _hard_ to focus when she’s _moving_ over him like that. His hands move up her thighs, slipping under the hem of her skirt. Her skin is so warm, so soft. Eventually he feels the lace edges of her underwear at his fingertips, her hipbones under his thumbs. In one sudden motion, he pulls her body closer to him — centers her more squarely just over his cock.

She gasps, and then she follows his lead, letting her hips stroke over him. He takes the moment to tease a finger under the waistband of her panties, snapping it against her skin. His other hand reaches behind her, squeezing her ass.

“Oh, _Felix_ ,” she croons, sighing over his skin. “I’m really turned on, too.” She lifts her head then, biting her lower lip. “Touch me, Felix,” she commands. “I know you want to.”

It doesn’t take him much more encouragement than that. He eagerly parts away her underwear, dipping his fingertips into her.

At his touch, she lets out a small moan, briefly crumpling into him. She rocks gently against his hand, recovering quickly and sitting back straight. She hums to herself, her hips establishing her tempo with his hand while she locks eyes with him.

Goddess, her eyes are so bright and intense. She looks at him like she’s ravenous, like he’s a fucking snack.

She flashes him a big devilish smile.

“Felix,” she coos. “Can I tell you something?”

“What?” he croaks. His voice barely makes it out of his throat.

She leans in, her mouth nearing his ears and her breath tickling his hairline. “I want to fuck you,” she tells him. “What about you? Do you want to fuck me?”

Goddess, the _way_ she says it. The bluntness of the question pulls the air right out of his lungs. He hiccups.

She can tell he’s flustered. “Is that a yes?” she asks him, playfully tapping her finger on his nose. “I can see it in your eyes. You want to fuck me, right, Felix?”

He presses his lips tight, but his answer slips out. “Yes,” he says, the word erupting from his mouth like the red blush over his cheeks.

Hearing this, she purrs in delight, carding her thumb over his bottom lip. “Ah, wow,” she giggles, planting a quick kiss onto his lips. “I like the sound of that. Tell me again. You want to fuck me, right, Felix?”

“Yes,” he repeats for her, unable to resist.

She laughs again, practically an excited squeal. “ _Incredible_ ,” she says, her hands atop his shoulders. “Can you imagine how long that would have taken for me to get that out of you if you _hadn_ _’t_ had this truth serum?”

He turns his head away. “A long time,” he answers, in a mumble.

“Exactly,” she murmurs, looking down at him through her eyelashes. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt this entire time?” Her fingers undo the first button at his collar. “We could have been having _so_ much _fun_.” The second button pops off. “We could have been fucking _every night_ ,” she continues, her fingers flicking apart the third button. Seeing the ridges of his muscles under her hands, she bites her lip, then meets his eyes. “I would have let you, you know,” she confesses, her hips grinding at his touch. “I think about you every night.”

Felix swallows thickly. “I do, too,” he rasps, his throat dry. “I masturbate thinking about you.”

He doesn’t actually mean to confess that. It’s quite embarrassing, and perhaps a little more than she needed to know. But at this point, he really doesn’t fucking care. Annette is soaking wet and deliciously slick at his fingers, and it seems like any amount of honesty is getting her off.

She _wants_ him. She wants _him_.

She leans forward, dragging her tongue over his chest. She stops just above his collarbone, sucking at the crook of his neck briefly before she whispers in his ear. “Tell me how you imagined me.”

And, _oh,_ of the many ways he _has_ imagined her, there is always one scene he comes back to.

She’s singing in the shower, in a bathroom attached to her room. He’s somehow found himself on her bed, drawn in by her melodies. The faucet water suddenly shuts, and she emerges out the door, followed by a cloud of white steam. All she wears is a white towel, barely large enough to cover the entire curve of her ass.

“You just got out of the shower,” he starts, feeling his cheeks burn hot. “And you see me in your bed.”

“Yeah?” she drawls, her teeth grazing his earlobe. “And what do I do?”

He can’t focus one bit — not between reciting his fantasies and her body _right_ there in front of him. “You drop your towel,” he continues, and goddess, it takes all of his self-control to not just rip off all her clothes right then and there. “And you join me in bed.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Do we fuck?” she asks. “Or did you just get off with naked cuddles?”

“We fuck,” he immediately answers. “You’re on top. Facing me. Riding me.”

“I am?” Her eyelids flutter, and he sees her lips part as she takes in a few heavy breaths. He sees her knees spread further apart, her hips tilt more acutely to him, her movements grow a little more desperate. He lets his fingers slip in another knuckle deeper inside of her, and she moans. “That’s really hot,” she mumbles.

“It is,” he agrees, palming circles against her. “You are,” he then adds.

Annette’s eyes open wide again, meeting his gaze. She laughs musically. “I _love_ how honest you are right now,” she says. “I love hearing _how_ you want to fuck me. I love hearing how _much_ you want to fuck me.”

And for once in his life, Felix Hugo Fraldarius doesn’t regret not being in denial.

“I really want to fuck you,” he affirms, in the same spirit. “Really bad. Right now.”

“Wow, Felix, you’re so candid,” she teases. She giggles, pressing a finger over his lips to quiet him. Then she frowns exaggeratedly, her hips halting. “But we _can_ _’t_ right now, Felix,” she reminds him. “It would be so _indecent_ to do that _here_ , wouldn’t it? Isn’t Manuela supposed to come back and check on you? Any minute now?”

Right. They’re in the infirmary, and as hot as it sounds to fuck in public, he knows better than that. He also frowns. “You’re right.”

“Well then, Felix,” she grins, lifting herself up from him. “This has been a really enlightening conversation. Thanks for sharing your dreams and aspirations with me.” She swings her legs off the bed and stands, briefly fixing her underwear. She turns to see his hand — glistening wet from within her. She seems to hum approvingly at it, then looks back at him. “But you’ve made me such a dirty girl,” she tells him. “I have to go to my room to wash up and take a shower.”

Then, her smile widens.

“I hope to see you there. Maybe we can make some of those dreams of yours come true.”

**Author's Note:**

> is this about to become a multi-fuck story? well, i guess we’ll find out.
> 
> offer me more suggestions for titles of my nsfw fics on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/napsbeforesleep)


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